


The Baby Whisperer

by Severina



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Community: love_bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-09
Updated: 2013-05-09
Packaged: 2017-12-10 21:42:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/790476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severina/pseuds/Severina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maggie cocks her head, creeps carefully toward the turn in the hall.  Once she reaches the bend, she can hear it.  </p>
<p>Daryl is singing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Baby Whisperer

**Author's Note:**

> Written for LJ's love_bingo community, for the prompt "song for you".
> 
> * * *

They all have to take turns taking care of the baby. It's only fair. Maggie knows that. Her not having a single maternal bone in her body is not a good enough reason for her to shuck her responsibilities. (Besides, Beth just snorted and laughed at her when she tried that one.)

But she groans when Judith starts crying. Again. Not twenty minutes after she finally got her settled from the last time. And maybe a full hour since the time before that. How many tears can a tiny little baby like that hold, anyway?

Maggie sneaks a glance at Glenn. Though he's got his head buried beneath his pillow and he's breathing deeply, she still has a sneaking suspicion that he's not as sound asleep as he appears. She tries stretching, casually bumping her elbow into his ribs. No response. 

"Glenn," she whispers, "you make me go out there alone again, you can kiss conjugal visits goodbye."

Nothing.

Maggie rolls her eyes and pushes the thin blanket back from her legs.

Which is the exact moment that Judith stops crying.

Maggie freezes, holding her breath, sure that any movement she makes is going to start the ruckus up again. When a full thirty seconds goes by without the waterworks resuming, she lets herself sigh in relief. Lies back down on the lumpy cot. Covers her legs. Smiles in the beautiful, blissful silence.

But she can't relax, can't get rid of the feeling that there's something wrong with this particular silence. This isn't like the other times that Judith's tears dried up and she finally drifted off. Those times, there were whimpers and hiccups and little mewling noises. Not just this sudden, inexplicable vacuum, this complete nothingness.

With a huff that's partially annoyance and partially apprehension, she shoves the blanket down and pads barefoot into the hallway. She's so focused on making her way to the cell where Judith's crib has been set up that she's halfway down the hall before she sees Daryl on the perch. And even if he wasn't rocking back and forth slowly on the balls of his feet, the way his shoulders are slightly hunched and his head tilted down would let her know exactly what he's doing. Of course, that doesn't completely explain why Judith's cries stopped so abruptly. God knows she's rocked that child endlessly and Judith's never stopped the wailing.

Maggie cocks her head, creeps carefully toward the turn in the hall. Once she reaches the bend, she can hear it. 

Daryl is singing. 

Maggie bites her lip, edges around the corner. Just a little closer. The melody is unfamiliar, and she tells herself that she just wants to get close enough to hear the words. Just so she can use it herself next time she's on call and Judith is having a full-blown crying fit. It has absolutely nothing to do with wanting to see Daryl Dixon letting his guard down around the baby.

One more step, and—

_"Go to sleep,_  
You little monster,  
'Fore I throw you against the waaaalll..." 

"Daryl!"

He's already grinning when he turns around. Of course he heard her creeping along, no matter how quiet she thought she was being -- what was she thinking? The look of amusement on his face only deepens when he sees the look on her face. "Keep your voice down," he warns.

Maggie lowers her voice, takes the final steps toward the pair. "You can't sing that!" 

Daryl shrugs around the bundle in his arms. "The words don't matter none," he says softly. "'S'all in the way you sing it. Like a lullaby."

"Yes, but—"

"She don't know what I'm sayin'. And she don't care." He looks down at the baby in his arms. "Ain't that right, sweetheart? You don't care. You know I'd rip the heart outta anybody who really tried to hurt you." He raises his eyes back to Maggie, and arches a brow. "Lil asskicker here'd agree with me, 'cept she's too busy _sleepin'_."

Maggie shakes her head, but can't help smiling as she looks down at the baby, so content in Daryl's arms. And honestly, she muses, who wouldn't be content with those arms wrapped around her? Strong, powerful arms rippling with muscle. Anyone with those arms wrapped around her would feel secure, safe. Protected. Loved. 

She blinks, reminds herself that she loves Glenn, Glenn who is sleeping back in their shared bunk, Glenn who is sweet and kind and who has little teensy matchstick arms.

"You all right?" Daryl asks.

Maggie starts, suddenly aware that perhaps she's been staring at those arms just a little bit too long. She clears her throat, backs away and tries to get her thoughts in order. "All right," she says finally. "Fine. I'm fine. And you? Just promise me you'll change the words to that song when she's old enough to understand!"

Daryl snorts. "I look like an idiot to you? Careful how you answer."

"Nope," Maggie says. "You're definitely not an idiot. But I know what I _am_ gonna be callin' you from now on."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Daryl hisses to her retreating back. "Maggie! You get your ass back here, girl!"

Maggie smiles all the way back to her bunk.

* * *

Three days later, Judith gets on one of her crying jags again. Glenn makes sure her diaper is clean. Heats up some formula, but she won't eat. Walks her up and down the concrete yard, jiggling her against his chest. Sends his best puppy-dog eyes toward Carol, and gets only a sympathetic smile for his efforts before she heads toward the new vegetable garden.

He tries everything. Judith just won't stop crying.

Finally he gives up and heads back inside to the tier of cellblocks. He swipes his hand through his hair and calls out in desperation, "Yo! Baby Whisperer!"

"Keep your pants on," Daryl calls back. "I'm comin'!"

**Author's Note:**

> My oldest sister was a colicky baby, and my mom tells me that she used to sing this exact song to her when she was walking the floors for hours trying to get my sister to stop crying. :)


End file.
